


Forever

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to make Dean a permanent fixture in his life. Forever. Officially.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

Castiel had fallen from Grace two years ago. In those two years it had been a strange dance he and the Winchester's did, finding where and how they all fit into each other lives.

Sam, Castiel had learned, fit nicely in the niche of someone whose company he greatly enjoyed. They traded stories and ideas over hunts and tomes and translations, Sam's mind broad and interesting and of great comfort to Castiel. Castiel felt comfortable talking with him for hours about the Supernatural and about life in general and quickly realized Sam's friendship was something he deeply valued and would stop at almost nothing to protect. 

Dean had carved out a far different place in Castiel's life, however. While Dean was just as smart and just as interesting as his younger brother, he was also sweet and giving and attentive. He made Cas feel at home when his skin felt too tight and the world too big. He cradled Castiel in his arms as Castiel worked through the loss of Jimmy's soul, the stealing of his Grace, the quietness in his head and in his heart without the Song as his constant companion. His fall had not been as graceful as he'd hoped but Dean had never given him an impatient glance.

Two years as a fallen angel and Castiel now clung to Dean just as desperately as Dean clung to him; finding comfort and happiness and strength in the man he'd pulled from Hell so many years ago. They'd had hard times, times when one or both of them were defiantly stubborn, times when they almost thought it would be the end of it all... But for every shouted word, for ever night spent apart there were tender endearments and sincere apologies. And cresting those moments were cherished times. Instances when Castiel felt so much bliss and rapture he felt his body would burst from the sheer inability to hold it all inside. Times whispered between cool bed sheets and filters of sunlight, times expressed in the gentle brush of fingers or the feather light press of lips. Those were the times Castiel pressed deep inside his heart, molded into his bones and carried with him wherever he went. 

And it was those times that moved Castiel to want to keep Dean Winchester in his life forever.  _Officially_. 

*

Over a space of time, Castiel approached Sam and emptied his thoughts to the other man. Sam was quiet and helpful, offered advice and words of encouragement when Castiel told him his feelings for Dean and eventually his idea to express those feelings to the older Winchester himself. His words of endearment towards Dean had been few and far between, Castiel not knowing how to say what he felt, but now, now he was ready and he wanted to do it right.

Sam took Castiel to a man that could help, stayed with him as Castiel handed over the one thing he had that still tied him to Heaven, stood by him while Castiel watched as pieces of that vestige of his prior self were melted down and made into something new.

When it was handed back to him, it was still useful and Castiel was grateful for that. He may not have been an angel any longer but the gleaming silver sword he'd used since the day he'd come into existence was an extension of himself, one of the only things remaining to remind him he had once been something eternal, something great.

When Castiel showed Sam the final product, the other man snickered, "he's going to hate you," Sam warned and Castiel heard the words for what they were:  _it's perfect_. Something settled satisfied and content within him. Now all that was left was the right moment.

*

The right moment came when Dean left, on foot, for a supply run.

"Outta beer!" he'd called throughout the bunker, "be back in a few." 

Castiel waited until Dean's retreating form was nothing but a distant shadow in his view before gathering his supplies and preparing for Dean's return. 

With trembling fingers he lit lanterns, flimsy and homemade, and settled them along the route he knew Dean would take to get home, hoping the sky would be dark enough for them to glow like he wanted them to. He found a patch of wild flowers and pulled a suitable amount to make a small bouquet and then wrapped a small strand of string around the stems to hold them together. He brushed his fingers over the right pocket of his jeans and feeling the comforting band of silver beneath the threads, took his position, waiting for Dean to come home. 

It wasn't long before Dean's familiar frame finally came into view, his bowlegs carrying him across the dirt and pebbles, eyes scanning the side of the road he walked, examining with question the flickering lanterns along the way.

As the hunter drew nearer, Castiel's heart began to flutter, nervous palpitations beating a tattoo against his chest. He willed himself not to shift from foot to foot, channeling that stoic stillness he once possessed as an angel into his jittery muscles. 

This was Dean, a man he trusted, a man who had been there through everything for him, and told him, every time Castiel needed to hear it, that he  _needed_  him. This was the man he wanted to be with for the rest of his existence and anything beyond that as well. This thought alone eased the tension out of his bones and rubbed out the nervousness he felt.

Another few short moments and the other man was standing in front of him, a perplexed expression on his face, a six pack of beer in one hand and a grocery bag full of supplies in another.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said slowly, and Castiel could see the cogs whirring away in Dean's brain, trying to process Castiel's presence in the middle of the secluded dusty trail they often used for smaller supply runs.  

"Hello, Dean." 

They stared at each other, Dean's gaze assessing and questioning, the green of his eyes turning to honey in the pillars of sun filtering in through the trees. 

"You okay man?" Dean asked when Castiel made no indications to speak. A wide grin cracked open on Castiel's face then, because yes, he was okay. He was  _more_  than okay. 

"Yes, Dean, I'm okay," he stated, unable to keep the anticipation out of his voice. Dean nodded and eyed the lanterns again, their glow growing brighter with the setting of the sun. 

"What's with the lanterns?" he asked.

"I was going for ambiance," Castiel explained. Dean raised an eyebrow at him, his expression growing more apprehensive by the minute and Castiel couldn't prolong the moment any longer. He pulled from behind his back the orange wild flowers he'd picked and offered them to Dean.

Dean looked down at the bouquet and then back to Cas before setting down the six pack of beer and the grocery bag and accepting the flowers. 

"Uh, thanks, Cas."

Castiel stepped closer to him then and lifted Dean's left hand, clutching at Dean's fingers with his own left hand. 

"Dean, I-" there was so much to say. Countless words in endless languages to describe the way he was feeling inside. There was too much love in his heart and infinite devotion in his veins for this one man and it all bubbled up and pressed at the edges of his brain, threatening to spill out all at once. He'd spend all night, had he been allowed, to try and express his feelings, to describe the warmth that curled in his stomach and the joy that filled his chest just from being with Dean.

But there wasn't time for that, not now; there would be an eternity for that later. For now, Castiel settled on the barest most simplistic way he knew how to tell Dean what he was feeling. 

"Dean," he started again, raising his right hand from where it hung heavy and waiting at his side. He raised the ring he and Sam had had made into the air, clenching it between two fingers, getting distracted for a hint of second when he saw how beautifully the remaining bit of sun glittered off of it and then moved to push it onto Dean's ring finger, "I need you too," he finally finished. 

Dean stared down at the ring on his finger, his other hand hanging by his side, still clutching the bouquet of flowers. 

"Cas, is this your...?" Dean trailed off. 

Castiel nodded, "Sam took me to a man that helped me melt it down," he began to explain but then Dean was putting both hands on either side of Castiel's face and kissing him. Kissing him like nothing else mattered in the world, like nothing anyone said or did could convince him there was anything more important than kissing Castiel all open mouthed and hot breathed. The blunt stems of the flowers were pressing into Castiel's cheek but he didn't care. He grasped at Dean's arms with his hands all desperate need.

"I love you, you crazy son of a bitch," Dean grumbled, pressing the words into Castiel's lips with a devotion Castiel had never known until Dean. "You know that? I love you," the words were gruff and ridged around the edges but tender and sincere in the middle. They slipped beneath the surface of Castiel's skin, buried themselves in his bones and heart. 

"I know," he replied, a hushed reverence that seemed to bring Dean back down to earth, ground him in the moment, "I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> [The idea for Dean’s ring was garnered from Chris’s [The Way the War was Won](http://archiveofourown.org/works/543844). To avoid spoilers, all I’ll say is: shrapnel. If you haven’t read it, go do so now.]


End file.
